


Sastiel + Wet t-shirt

by RachaelBmine



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Ficlet, M/M, otp challenge, wet tshirt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-19
Updated: 2014-09-19
Packaged: 2018-02-18 01:05:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2329583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RachaelBmine/pseuds/RachaelBmine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>OTP challenge - ficlet - just fun</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sastiel + Wet t-shirt

Sam panted as he pressed his back up against the corridor wall in the darkened bunker hallway, the cold seeping through his white v-neck tshirt effortlessly. He looked to the left and squinted into the darkness. Clear. He inched his way forward, breath catching in his throat, and raised his gun to be ready when he rounded the corner. The garage was literally steps away and his stomach clinched in the nervous way it always did before engaging in a battle. He heard a scrape of metal echoing in the large expanse of the dimly lit garage and tried to place its location. Fuck it. He surged around the corner with a roar and immediately saw Dean, he had apparently been trying to creep up the steps and into the corridor. He pointed his weapon and let loose. Water drenched Dean’s face and shirt and Dean pumped his nearly empty water gun in a weak attempt at retaliation.

His roar turned into maniacal laughter as he unloaded his Super Soaker directly into Dean’s face. “Son-of-a-bitch!” the older hunter growled. Sam gave a mockingly sad face and a little wave “Who’s the bitch now? Huh Dean?” he joked. Dean’s bitch face was one for posterity. Sam nodded his head towards the cars and Dean looked around. “Cas is behind the Contenintal.” he deadpanned. “Dean!” came a shout, full of bass and frustration. 

Sam dropped the water gun he currently had and pulled the long double barreled water gun from his back. He crept down the steps silently and pumped slowly at the weapon, readying it for the attack. Dean leaned on the railing, grinning and waiting for the massacre. Sam's damp shirt clung to his arms as he held the weapon at ready. “Come on out Tink,” Sam cooed softly. “I promise I’ll make it as painless as possible.” He swung around the big black car only to find no angel. Cas had circled around and jumped up with a shout, startling Sam. Water shot out of Cas’ SS-300 water gun, with it's three water reservoirs and double back tanks, with so much pressure it stung Sam's skin. Cas screamed wildly and pumped the gun hard, the white shirt Sam wore provided no protection from the aqueous onslaught.  
It clung to every tense muscle like a transparent sheet, the curls of hair that spread across those strong chest muscles showed through, and his nipples perked up at the coolness of the water. His biceps stretched the weak fabric as it clung to him for dear life. Each quivering abdominal muscle was accentuated under the thin layer and Cas' eyes wandered over them. The low hung shorts Sam wore, while darkly colored, hid nothing. The bottom of his tee had scrunched up as it stuck to his sides and the V of his hips seemed to channel water down below his waistband. Sam was screaming and flailing dramatically, giving in to the angels victory, when he noticed the stream of water had slowed down. 

Cas stood still as the water slowed to a drip, eyes wandering over Sam's long, muscled frame. Sam bit his bottom lip, suddenly feeling completely exposed with his brother standing on the steps. Cas closed the space between them and pressed Sam's body against the nearest car, assaulting his neck with his teeth and tongue. Sam gasped and threw his water gun carelessly to the floor, digging his hands in Cas' short hair. His mind shorted out completely. 

Cas' hands were everywhere, his mouth was forceful and rough but hot and soft at the same time. Sam felt Cas' hand in his shorts and the firmness as it wrapped around his dick and he moaned Cas' name. It wasn't until a rough hand grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked his head back, that he lost his composure, a long high pitched moan escaped his mouth. The firm grip below disappeared and Sam's eyes snapped open as he prepared to protest. He was cut short when he felt hot wet lips engulf his dick completely. He gripped Cas' hair and hummed his approval. His whispers about how good the angel's mouth felt, how beautiful he was, how much he loved seeing Cas so turned on, floated around the garage. 

He suddenly remembered they were not alone and he eyes snapped toward the steps. Dean however was long gone, down the corridor, mumbling angrily to himself. "Every fucking time, I swear..."


End file.
